


Never Late for Lunch

by obsidian_GSD



Series: Missed Lunch Date [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Depressed Crowley (Good Omens), Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-29 11:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20795627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidian_GSD/pseuds/obsidian_GSD
Summary: Crowely's late for lunch and Aziraphale grows worried. The demon is never late for lunch, well, at least never this late.After not hearing from his friend for a stretch of time, the angel finally brings himself to go check on Crowley, but he isn't prepared for the state he finds his friend in. He immediately wants to help Crowley, but what if there isn't anything he can do?Aziraphale's POV ofLate for Lunch





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley’s late for lunch.

Well, later than he normally is and Aziraphale can’t help the flash of worry that goes through him. It isn’t exactly uncommon for the demon to change his mind when it comes to their lunch meet ups, calling at the last minute asking if they can rearrange after something came up, and Aziraphale has never really minded. It usually just means he doesn’t have to stop whatever project he’s currently engrossed in, which is a relief. When they do keep their meetings, Crowley always finds a way to saunter in exactly ten minutes after they were supposed to have met up, a fact that always makes the angel smile into whatever cup he has brought up to his mouth as his friend sprawls across from him.

Today though, Crowley is over half an hour late already and Aziraphale can’t help the worry that’s growing in him. _Maybe I just missed his call_, he can’t help but wonder as he let’s his tea grow cold next to him. He’s forgotten it, after only taking a sip or two, as he finds himself watching the door to the care instead. _Traffic, there was just traffic somewhere yes, that’s it_ Aziraphale justifies, conveniently forgetting the fact that Crowley would never find himself caught in traffic.

Every time the door opens, bringing with it the warm summer air, the angel’s eyes flick over whatever form walks through it. he dismisses each and ever person, instantly recognizing them as not his demon, and his tea continues to get cold.

It’s dark before he finally manages to pull himself away from the table, giving the workers a small blessing as he leaves for taking up space in their place for so long. They stopped noticing him after the first hour, eyes glancing over him as if he wasn’t really there, and Aziraphale felt it was the principal of the ting, really, to give them something for their time.

He makes his way back to his shop slowly, going over his last conversation with Crowley, wondering if he possibly said something to upset the demon. It was a short talk, but he felt for sure at the time that everything was fine...

_Always pushing him away..._

“No, I’m sure something just came up unexpectedly,” he mutters to himself as he reaches his shop, wringing his hands the whole way. He grabs for the phone once he’s in his backroom, dialing Crowley’s cell with barely a thought. The line rings endlessly and he eventually gives up, not bothering to try his flat’s phone instead. The demon has always been more inclined to answer his cell over anything else.

Two days pass and Aziraphale pushes the growing worry to the side as they do. He’s gone centuries without a single word from the demon, surely he can last a couple of weeks without completely freaking out. Even if he had kind of started to get used to seeing his friend more often the last few decades... The bell to his shop rings and Aziraphale pushes his worries down once more, focusing on getting the new prospective customer out of his shop empty handed as soon as possible.

The days pass in a blur full of grumpy customers, cups of cold tea and cocoa, and anxious glances towards his phone or the road whenever he looks out of a window. He continues as if everything is normal, as if he isn’t being eaten up inside as he still doesn’t hear from his friend.

The majority of summer passes before the angel finds himself standing in front of an intimidating apartment complex. He’s only ever been here a couple of times, but he’s never much cared for the modern look of them. Too much gray and too many hard edges for him. Not that he thought Crowley ever looked like he belongs here either, but it’s the home the demon chose, so who is he to judge?

He can’t bring himself to go inside as he stands on the walk way looking up at the windows. Aziraphale knows just beyond those panes of glass is a demon he has no idea where he stands with anymore. This is the longest they have gone without speaking in a very long time and Aziraphale finds he just cannot handle it anymore. It still takes him another month, a change in the weather as fall arrives, and many more nights standing outside before he can bring himself to go inside. Even once inside, it takes him two more weeks before he finally knocks on the door.

He isn’t quite sure what he expected when he finally makes the decision, but being met with silence wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He knows the demon is here. Not only is the Bentley parked outside, in the same spot he has seen it for months, but he can also sense his friend’s presence coming from the other side.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale calls as he starts knocking again.

_Maybe he’s taking another one of those naps... the kind that lasts for years if he wants it to..._

Aziraphale shakes his head, hoping that isn’t the case. He knows the demon hasn’t had one in a while, but he’s grown to really care for the time they spend together. Crowley’s naps always last for so long and while the demon is free to do whatever he wants of course, Aziraphale can’t help but hope a century long nap isn’t in the works right now. Especially not without at least getting a heads up. That’s what friends do.... right?

Aziraphale knocks again, pounding harder than necessary on the door. “Crowley, are you in there? I’m sorry if I did something to hurt you, my dear,” he adds on, knowing it doesn’t mean much of anything if he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be sorry about.

After more silence, Aziraphale finally sighs, shoulders slumping._ I could just..._

_No, that’s invasive_

_But just to check he’s ok? Didn’t somehow manage to injure himself some way..._

With that thought come snippets of his friend hurt and bleeding somewhere and he can’t shake the feeling that comes over him. Snapping his fingers, he pushes gently against the door once the lock clicks and makes his way inside. “Crowley?” he calls again, announcing himself as he takes a few cautious steps.

When he’s still met with silence, he takes a few more steps inside, heading towards what supposedly counts as a living room in this cold place. There’s a figure stretched uncomfortably on the too small couch, legs curled at odd angles. “Crowley, are you ok?” Aziraphale asks as he walks around to the front of the couch.

The demon doesn’t move, doesn’t twitch a muscle as the angel move closer and Aziraphale finds the worry building inside of him. He gets ready to reach a hand out, but the subtle rise of chest and shoulders shows him his demon is still inside of his corporation and he finds himself releasing a shaky breath.

“My dear,” he starts, adding as much positivity and good as he can to his word, shoving aside the worry. _Crowley’s fine, he’s right here, he’s-_ “How long have you been here? Is this why you missed lunch?”

Aziraphale waits for an answer, truly not upset, just needing to know his friend is ok. He finds himself moving even closer to the couch, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of golden eyes behind silver lenses. His breath catches as eyelids flutter, and he waits for several heartbeats, anxiety floating back to the surface. _Maybe he really is mad at me..._

_No..._

As Aziraphale’s emotions start to spiral, his mind flashes to a memory from long ago, from a time in Rome, just after oysters... Crowley had gone through so much in just a few short years, something Aziraphale never really got the full story for, but as he reflects...

“You shut down then...” he whispers out. “Oh, Crowley...”

They’ve been through so much lately, had to deal with more than they ever thought they would have had to...

Aziraphale snaps his fingers, bringing forth a tartan blanket that he carefully drapes over his friend. It’s one of his, from the bookshop. Once the blanket is in place, he can’t help but place a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, needing to ground himself, willing his friend to come back to him soon. Letting Crowley know he’s here for him. A sigh escapes his lips, betraying how he really feels. He notices Crowley is still wearing his glasses and he goes to remove them after a thought, but stops himself short; they’ve always been just the right amount of protection for the demon. Just enough of a shield to get him through the worst of times.

As much as he wants to pull them away, Aziraphale knows it’s not his place to, not now anyways. He slides his hand away before gently murmuring, “I hope you come back to me soon...” He leaves quickly after that, needing to pull himself away before he does something silly, something he won’t be able to explain away later.

It’s a few days before the angel can bring himself to go back and check on Crowley once more. He let’s himself in once more, not really bothering to knock this time. He’s fairly certain his demon is going to be out for a lot longer and he isn’t really surprised when he’s right. His friend is still curled up on the couch, blanket still draped over his shoulders. He doesn’t move to the moving room this time, doesn’t know if he can handle the silence today, so he moves to the plant room instead.

He’s always liked to listen to Crowley talk about his plants, always wondered what they all looked like. He’s caught snippets of them here and there during short visits, but he’s never been able to see them in all of their glory like this. Sunlight filters in through a window in the ceiling, showering the whole room in so much light. Green reaches, stretches, grows everywhere around him as his gaze wanders the room. His breath catches as he takes in the amount of dedication and care that’s gone into taking care of everything in the room.

There’s an undercurrent of fear running through the room, but the longer the angel stays in the room pouring out all of his emotions that have taken over him, the plants seem to reach for him. A deep shuddering breath leaves him, and then another that has him falling to his knees. His hands come up to his face, covering the tears he can’t hold back.

_Why am I crying... He’s the one that is hurting and here I am breaking down for-_

The angel shakes as the sobs continue to course through him. He knows it’s silly to think he isn’t allowed to be sad too, but he can’t stop the thoughts swirling above him. Aziraphale isn’t sure just how long he kneels on the floor finally allowing himself to feel everything that’s been hiding inside since that missed lunch date. His fears of being abandoned, the hopeless feeling that he can’t do anything to help, his worries that Crowley won’t come back to him... It all crashes over him as he sits in this room surrounded by so much life.

When Aziraphale finally lifts his head, sobs abating and tears drying, he has to take a deep shuddering breath. Looking around, he can only smile softly as he takes in the sight of the plants reaching for him - even though, strictly speaking, they definitely shouldn’t be, what with being plants and all. They aren’t quite touching him, but they are closer than they were when he first entered the room.

“Thank you, my dears,” he whispers with a thick voice. “You are all such beauties.”

After taking a deep breath, Aziraphale finally pulls himself to his feet. He sends around blessings to all of the plants, feeding them, nurturing them, doing his best to water them correctly. He knows he will never take care of them as well as Crowley does, but he knows he has to at least try until the demon comes back to take care of them himself. And if he ends up spoiling them a bit in the process with sweet, kind words? Well, they surely won’t be able to tattle on him. “But, that’s only if you keep up appearances,” he tells them harmlessly. “Can’t have Crowley coming back to a wilting jungle. He would never forgive me then...”

He smiles softly at all of the plants in the room once more before finally pulling himself the rest of the way together. He briefly wonders if he should check on Crowley before leaving, but he knows nothing has changed. He has to fight off a horrible flash of guilt as he leaves without so much as glancing in the other room. Self cares comes in all forms, or so he’s learned over the years, and right now, seeing his friend still shut down will do nothing to help either of them. So he leaves, letting the door lock behind him with a click and a promise to check in again soon.

Aziraphale isn’t sure how much time passes before he decides to visit Crowley’s flat again. The first winds of winter have started to filter in though, and he finds himself bundling up more than usual as he makes his way in the brisk air. When he gets to the flat, he’s happy to see the plants are still behaving and sends around fresh miracles for them all after he hangs up coat and scarf up. It takes him a few lingering moments in the peaceful room before he can finally bring himself to head to the living room to check on Crowley.

_Have to be the strong one, needs you to be the strong one this time_

His mind swirls as his shoes click over the concrete floors, pulling him closer to the demon that hasn’t moved an inch as far as he can tell. It takes him a moment longer - and a deep breath - before he finds himself reaching out for a slender shoulder. He allows his hand to curl ever so gently over the bony area, his eyes finally actually looking at his friend. Red hair falls in gentle waves down the side of Crowley’s face, almost shocking the angel. Aziraphale lets his fingers move ever so hesitantly to the nape of Crowley’s neck, where they thread themselves in the silken strands.

As he plays with it, he realizes it has started to curl around his friend’s ears and neck, already longer than he has seen it in a few years now. Aziraphale can’t fight off the urge to keep sliding his fingers through it ever so gently, nails scratching occasionally. “Your hair is starting to get long, dear,” he hears himself say. He doesn’t expect the demon to answer, but the silence is suddenly too much for him and the words continue to flow.

“There’s a new place that opened up right down from the bookshop. I’ve heard they have amazing coffee, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to try them,” the angel rambles as he takes a seat in the chair next to the couch. “They’ve been getting amazing reviews though, and I know how much you like your coffee, dear. I guess going without you just hasn’t sounded like much fun.”

_Nothing has sounded like fun really..._ But he can’t bring himself to say that bit out loud. He knows Crowley always feels bad when he comes out of these and he doesn’t want to make him feel worse. He has no way to know if the demon is sleeping or not when he comes to visit and he really doesn’t want to say more than he should.

He stays for a long time that day, the sun having set hours before when he finally manages to leave. He’s talked himself hoarse, talking about everything and nothing. The cold weather has set in even further and Aziraphale sends a worried thought back to the dark flat before continuing on his way. _Crowley should be fine, as long as that blanket doesn’t go anywhere..._ The angel had made sure to bless it so it would keep him warm as long as it was covering him (or cool depending on the season), so Aziraphale pulls himself away form his worries and heads him. It’s another two months before he stops by again.

It’s turned into one of the snowiest winters he has seen in a long time and Aziraphale shivers as he steps out of the taxi he had decided to take. When he enters the flat, the angel has to stop for a moment as the shock of how cold it is washes over him. He knows it’s cold outside, but he figured Crowley would have some way to keep this place warm without constantly using a miracle on it. He spares a thought for the poor plants as he shucks off his hat, gloves, and coat, but the air makes him shiver again and he can’t help but rush to check on Crowley, plants forgotten.

The demon hasn’t moved, but the blanket lays in a pile on the floor and shivers course through his friend. He can only watch for a heartbeat as Crowley shakes on the couch, doing nothing to help himself before he moves. “Honestly...” he sighs as he gathers the blanket up from the floor. His friend is ice cold, something he can feel without even touching him. He gives the blanket another blessing, one that will keep it where he leaves it and still allow the full warming effects to work before he wraps it around Crowley again. Aziraphale doesn’t bother pulling it back up all of the way this time and lets it bunch around Crowley’s slim waist. His heart aches as he watches his friend shiver and he has to fight hard against the guilt for not coming sooner as it threatens to sink in.

“You have to stay covered if you aren’t going to warm this place up while I’m not here,” he finally whispers out as he watches the shivers start to die off. As another shiver courses through his own body, he snaps his fingers, willing the cold flat to find a bit of warmth again. “It’s halfway through winter, you know,” Aziraphale whispers, hating the meaning behind the words even as they leave his lips.

_Months_

_You’ve been here for months_

_Been in pain, been sad and I haven’t been able to do anything to help for months..._

Aziraphale feels the tears coming back again and he can’t stop them this time. “Please dear, please...” the words fall off as he tries to find a way to describe everything in his heart. It’s all he can do to will the sobs threatening to break loose away, but he doesn’t move to wipe the away the tears that track silently down his face. He doesn’t stay long that day, but makes it a point to check in more often.

While he used to visit once every couple of months before, Aziraphale finds himself stopping by with much more regularity as winter continues to rage on. Some days, all he can bring himself to do is check on the still thriving plants, whispering to them kindly as he invites himself into their space. It brings a smile to his face to see how well they are still growing and they bring a bit of hope to him as he moves among them.

There are other days when Aziraphale manages to stay long enough to chat to Crowley, talking about anything that comes to mind. “She really thought I was just going to sell it to her for the original selling price! A bloody first edition that was_ signed_!” he finds himself exclaiming, recanting an instance from his shop the other day. “Honestly, I don’t know who she thought she was playing, but I can assure you she won’t be back anytime soon.”

They story pauses here as Aziraphale reflexively waits for his friend to add some sort of snarky reply, but dives into the next story quickly when he’s only met with the usual silence. The stories pour from him on those days, meaningless and silly, but the angel can’t bring himself to really care. Part of him hopes that Crowley listens in occasionally and that hope alone is enough to keep him talking.

On the supremely chilly nights, the ones he can hear roaring outside with a wind cold enough to freeze you where you stand, Aziraphale finds himself snuggling into a blanket as he sits in the armchair. There’s usually a book in his lap those nights, one he brings from the shop and ends up leaving behind more often than not. Most times, he reads out loud, partially because he needs to fill the silence with something, even if ti’s just the sound of his own voice. Another part of him knows Crowley has always enjoyed this though, being read to. He had once told the angel - on a very drunken night - that it wasn’t the stories he hated, but the way the words seem to slither across the page in a manner that made reading so bloody difficult. Aziraphale had taken to reading more out loud after that, anything from letters to books Crowley glanced at some times.

Aziraphale’s collection in the flat has reached a point where he has started to move them into the bedroom, shelves mysteriously appearing for them one day. It’s one of the last days of winter when Aziraphale crumbles again after reading one of his favorite Wilde books. He isn’t even really sure what sets him off this time. He’s been doing his best to hold it together, making sure not to cry whenever he’s at Crowley’s if he feels the need to cry at all. This time though...

_I can’t keep doing this_

Can’t keep showing up and seeing no change, no sign he’s ever gong to come back to me

What’s the point anymore...

Even as he thinks the thoughts, Aziraphale hates himself. He knows Crowley will do anything for him, and yet, Aziraphale is struggling with just keeping his friend company. He knows Crowley wouldn’t blame him if he stopped, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he did. Still, his heart hurts, aches for the demon sized being that’s missing from his life, and he can’t fight back that pain today. So he cries, broken sobs ripped from his chest as he sinks to the floor next to the couch. He doesn’t allow himself to touch the demon, can’t bring himself to really even look at his friend before burying his face in his hands as he leans against the couch.

The tears slide down his face faster than he can process, rushing out between tightly squeezed eye lids. Even with his hands covering his face, they still manage to slide down to his chin, dripping off it as his body wracks with sobs. He just wants his friend back, wants to be able to do something, _just wish there was a way to make it all better_

It’s silly to think he could just wish this all better, but he can’t help it. He can’t breathe, can’t function, can’t do_ anything_ knowing his friend is stuck in so much pain.

Aziraphale doesn’t know how much time passes before he pulls himself together again, and even that is a slow affair. His sobs eventually die down, turning into chocked off hiccups that shake him. His breathing gets under control, deep and painful breaths becoming slow and trembling before returning to some sense of normal. His tears take a long time to dry up though. They slow down as the rest of him starts to pull itself together a piece at a time, but every time he thinks they have stopped, spill down his cheeks. Aziraphale eventually pulls his hands away form his face, leaning his head back against the couch. He can just feel a lingering warmth right behind him and it serves to remind him that his friend is still here, still with him.

_Just not the way I want him to be_

And that’s the kicker, he realizes. While he’s allowed to want things in life, he knows he needs to be there for others needs and wants as well. If their situations were reversed, he knows Crowley would do the same for him, and as hard as this is for the angel, he know he just has to keep trying. Has to keep showing Crowley he cares and is here for him in whatever way he can.

It takes more shaky breaths and a very deep, heavy sigh before Aziraphale finally pulls himself off of the floor. He finds he still can’t manage to look at his friend, still can’t find it in himself to be ok with seeing the prone form behind him, and he turns to leave with a sigh. Just as he walks out, he swears he hears a hushed sob break the silence that surrounds the flat, but he only shakes his head as he goes, locking the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale continues to visit often, bringing himself back to the flat weekly at this point. Winter finally releases it’s grip on the city, allowing spring to settle in with a gentle warm breeze that has the angel opening the windows when he visits. He still takes care of the plants, smiling and speaking kindly to them all as he spends time among them. They hold so many of his secrets at this point, so much of his heart ache, and they still reach for him whenever he wanders among them.

One of his tea sets and favorite mugs migrates to the flat, finding their place among the bare shelves in the kitchen. He spends many nights puttering around, waiting for the kettle to boil so he can settle in with a cup of tea as he sits with Crowley. Those days, he can almost pretend he’s holding it together alright. Can almost trick himself into thinking this has become his new normal as he recounts the various events from the last week. He doesn’t really want this to become his new normal, but it’s nice to pretend.

Summer rolls around, settling in with a heavy sigh and Aziraphale finds himself patting himself on the back for having the fore thought to bless Crowley’s blanket to keep the demon cool. The plants thrive in the warm weather and Aziraphale smiles when a few of them even blossom and bloom in ways he never knew they could. Crowley’s hair continues to grow, reaching past his neck, and the angel finds himself bringing a brush to the flat.

On days when Aziraphale just can’t seem to pull himself out of his darker thoughts, he finds himself sitting on the floor next to the couch. The silken strands have started to regain some of their curls, but not as tight as that first time he saw them. It takes him a few awkward tries to bring himself to actually run the brush through them, but after a while, he finds it soothing and natural, as if he’s always been meant to do this.

His guard always seems to lower, just a bit, while he tends to his friend, and he ends up voicing some personal thoughts as he works slowly. “We’ve sure been through a lot over the years, haven’t we my dear,” he hears himself whisper as he works. He’s never sure if Crowley can hear him, or if the demon is awake to listen, but the words fall from his mouth anyways. “I never really thought we would end up here, just the two of us. Never allowed myself to imagine it. You always did have the better mind for things like that,” Aziraphale says with a soft smile.

“I’m only sorry I didn’t share your vision sooner,” he continues. The brush passes smoothly through red locks, bringing a shine to it as he works. “Maybe if I had listened sooner, or allowed myself to share your imagination, maybe...”

He stops, taking a deep breath that he releases slowly. It does no good to let his thoughts stray in that direction, _isn’t going to bring him back to me._

“It’ll have been a year next week. Did you know?” Aziraphale starts again, steadying his voice as much as he can. “Obviously, we’ve gone much longer than a year in the past without seeing each other. It shouldn’t really bother me as much as it does, right?”

_I just thought_

_Now that everything’s over, we could..._

Aziraphale sighs, hands moving gently over Crowley’s hair. He pushes those thoughts away, not needing all the others that come along with them. His friend needs him, needs him to be there for him, and getting wrapped up in his emotions isn’t going to change anything.

“Just not the time for it, is it...” he whispers before working in silence again. He finds himself listening to the sounds of the city as he works, the ones that signify time passing even as he feels frozen inside of this cold apartment. Aziraphale pulls himself to his feet not much later, but before he goes, he can’t stop himself; he reaches out to the demon again. His knuckles brush over Crowley’s cheek ever so gently and his heart aches.

Summer flies by quickly and Aziraphale finds himself stopping by almost every day. There is the occasional day here or there when his emotions overwhelm him too much and he just can’t bring himself to go. Most nights though, he’s camped out in the flat, willing his friend to find his way back to him.

The nights start to get cold again when Aziraphale breaks down again for the first time in months.

He’s been holding it all in for too long, holding back all of the sadness and pain he’s been feeling. He tries so hard to put on a face while he’s with Crowley, tries so hard to be the supportive friend the other man deserves, but he can’t just pretend like this isn’t bothering him anymore either. He’s lonely and scared that he really did something to screw up their friendship, even though he’s told himself over and over again that he didn’t. He’s brushing Crowley’s hair again when it all bubbles over, unable to be held back anymore.

“Oh, Crowley...” he whispers as his hands still, the brush falling. He doesn’t know if Crowley is listening, is even going to hear him, and part of him almost hopes he doesn’t as his eyes start to mist over. Thoughts of everything he hoped they could have had by now, everything he could have said by now, all swirl around him. “I need... I... p-please my love...”

His voice breaks, but that name slips out quickly before he even has a chance to realize he was going to say it. He doesn’t want to take it back though, now that he’s finally said it. All of his fears come pouring out as the tears start to fall, _fears that he won’t come back to me, that I’ve lost him forever, that this really is all my fault_ and he lets it all fall from his lips.

“Whatever I-I did to push y-you away, Crowley, I-I...” he’s spiraling, tears falling faster. “You... I n-never told you and I-I should have all these years... You... mean the w-world to me Crowley... I-I... p-please... c-come...”

He can’t hold back the sobs anymore and doesn’t really want to at this point. Aziraphale feels so alone, so lost as to what he’s supposed to be doing, if there even is anything he can do to bring Crowley back to him.

_I need you Crowley_

_Please_

_I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner_

As his sobs grow, Aziraphale presses himself against Crowley, draping an arm over the demon, holding him closer than he ever has. His tears are soaking into the blanket that’s keeping his friend warm once again, but he can’t pull himself away, can’t stop the tears that scream to be released. He wants so badly to tell his friend everything, needs to let it all out, but his sobs hold his words back, choking them off before he can get them all out.

“...angel...”

Aziraphale’s breath catches as his head snaps up to look at Crowley._ I was just hearing things, just hearing what I wanted_\- his eyes land on Crowley’s bare face, sunglasses no longer present. “...Crowley?” he chokes out, a new sob catching in his throat. He finds himself waiting, hoping for more, hoping for anything. He looks around for the glasses when the doubt starts to creep in again, finding them on the table next to the couch. He looks back to Crowley, eyes wide and another sob breaks through him as he watches the demon’s face.

He moves one hand back to Crowley’s hair, fingers threading through it gently. It isn’t much of a sign, he knows, but after so long without anything, he’ll take it. Part of him wonders how hard it was for the demon to even give him that much. Aziraphale sniffs hard, wiping his face off as his sobs finally start to die down. “Thank you, Crowley,” he whispers as he leans back down to rest his head on Crowley once more.

He stays there for a long time just watching Crowley sleep. The small amount of hope glows in his chest, mixing with the truth he was finally able to let out. It might have taking him entirely too long to say it all, but he does need his friend, and he does think of him that way. “I care for you so much, my love,” he whispers as his hand traces patterns over the demon’s back. “I’m only sorry I never told you sooner.”

Aziraphale almost never leaves anymore. He will pull himself away from Crowley’s side to check on the plants, to make tea, to finally get a bite to eat when he has the energy for it, but those moments grow few and far in between. Something has changed in Crowley, Aziraphale can sense it, and he’s almost scared to really leave anymore. He takes the opportunities he gets when Crowley seems the most calm to do what he can, but he can never bring himself to leave when the demon seems the most tormented.

He isn’t sure what exactly is going on behind those closed lids, but it tears at him whenever he catches a noise. Muffled whimpers, a broken sob, the smallest of gasps... Sounds he would have missed if he wasn’t so worried. He finds himself still talking to Crowley, needing to say whatever comes to mind when the energy coming from Crowley grows to an extreme level. It’s not much, but part of him hopes it’s doing something, anything to help Crowley.

The weather breaks once again and Aziraphale almost misses how fast spring passes. It’s not until the flowers, kept alive by permanent blessings, start to bloom again that the angel realizes it’s summer once again. _Two years...._ “It’s summer again, my dear,” he whispers to the sleeping demon as he runs a hand over his back, squeezing the bony hip hidden under a blanket. He waits for a bit, noticing Crowley’s mood change almost instantly from calm to something else before it lapses again and Aziraphale finds himself wondering...

Days start to blend together for the angel, turning into one long blur. He can’t ever bring himself to leave as the days pass slower and slower for him. New books appear whenever he needs them, but it takes him much longer to get through them than it ever has before. His thoughts are too scattered, his worries for Crowley taking over everything else, and most nights, he ends up with a book in his lap purely for the comforting weight instead of actually wanting to read it.

Aziraphale finds himself touching Crowley more than he has ever dared to in the past. Now that the words have finally been released, now he’s finally told the other how much he cares, he has no reason not to show it. He still brushes Crowley’s hair, taking care of the long, wavy strands that hang off of the couch, but he starts to allow himself to run his fingers over the slender neck more often. Brushes hair away from the demon’s face, dances his fingers over Crowley’s back whenever he walks past, rubs a shoulder whenever he senses an overwhelming amount of pain and fear...

“If only I had allowed myself to do this sooner, my love,” he says softly as he pours his love through the simple touches.

The day that Crowley seems to slip the farthest yet from him, Aziraphale finds himself stretching out next to the demon with barely a passing thought. The narrow couch suddenly finds itself wide enough to fit two people on it as the angel pulls his friend as close as he can with an arm wrapped around his waist. _I’m here, Crowley, I’m here..._ He pushes everything he can to the demon, giving all of the love he has.

_Please, don’t leave me, my dear_

_I’m here for you, you aren’t alone_

_Just keep fighting, please..._

It feels like ages have passed before he feels Crowley starts to come off of whatever ledge he had found himself on. Aziraphale releases a shaky breath against the demon’s neck, his fears fighting to claw their way to the surface, but he pushes them down again. He knows he needs to hang on for the both of them, needs to keep it together as much as he can. He lays on the couch holding Crowley long after the danger passes, afraid to let go, but also afraid to stop giving all he has.

He forgets to let go.

Forgets to get off of the couch and go back to reading or drinking tea. Mostly because he just can’t seem to bring himself to leave the demon’s side anymore. There continue to be moments when Crowley feels like he’s slipping away though, and Aziraphale finds he’s afraid to leave. Afraid of what will happen if he does end up letting go. _Will he truly be lost to me...?_ Crowley seems to fall further and further away from him every time and Aziraphale finds himself wondering what more can he do to help...

He ends up talking, talking a lot. Nothing of importance ever really finds its way out of his mouth, mostly just memories at this point. He tries to only mention the good times, “like that night we found that wine cellar, during that dreadful party we had to attend. Remember that night, my dear?” he reminisces while using his fingers on his free hand to brush through Crowley’s hair. Long ago, he had replaced the arm underneath Crowley’s head, doing his best to carefully uncurl the demon’s arm. He hasn’t moved in over two years and Aziraphale knows how his joints get sometimes.

His voices grows scratchy from overuse, often, but Aziraphale pushes past it, using a simple miracle every now and again when needed. Crowley only seems to slip even more away from him, but he just does his best to keep going for his friend, to keep hanging on for him. It grows so much harder day by day...

_I’m going to lose him..._

_Going to lose..._

_Can’t lose..._

Aziraphale pulls Crowley closer, the arm wrapped around his waist tightening. He buries his face in the bright red hair that he tries to keep from pulling on, needing to block out the world for a few moments. Days continue to pass by, seasons keep changing, and Aziraphale finds his fears growing as his friend continues to slip from his grasp.

_Three year..._

_It’ been three year..._

It dawns on Aziraphale one morning. He isn’t truly paying attention to what day it is anymore, but some part of him has evidently kept track for him. He can barely even sense Crowley some days, but he still pushes everything he has at the demon. He’s still pressed against the demon’s back, but on this day, it’s not enough anymore. All it takes is that simple thought and Aziraphale finds himself wishing it into existence; he blinks and they are in Crowley’s bed, blanket pulled up over both of them.

Crowley is now facing him, still wrapped up in the angel’s arms, his head now resting against a silk covered pillow. Aziraphale finds himself tracing Crowley’s face with his eyes, then with his fingers, using the softest of touches. As he lays there, he can’t help but want more, so much more, and he’s terrified he’ll never get that chance now. As he watches Crowley sleep, he realizes he’s the closes he’s been in a long time now, and Aziraphale wonders if he’ll ever get the chance...

_Going to lose him..._

_Going to..._

Aziraphale presses closer to Crowley, pulling himself up as he does so. He hesitates, only for a moment, before pressing his lips against the demon’ temple, ever so softly. His lips move to the snake marking, pressing another kiss to it. His lips only pull away long enough to move to Crowley’s cheek, move down to his neck. He pulls away, moving back to look down at Crowley when he feels something change and he finds himself hoping..._ please..._

Crowley never comes this close to the surface again and Aziraphale finds himself laying as close as he can to him. He blocks everything out now, forgets the world as it passes around him. He doesn’t sleep, but he isn’t really awake either anymore at this point. He spends his time just staring at Crowley, taking him all in in ways he never really allowed himself to in the past. He memorizes every line of Crowley, but he finds himself doing it in a new light now that he’s finally being truthful to himself.

“Oh, Crowley,” he whispers into the quiet bedroom. “I... I love you so very much, my dear...”

The words settle over the pair, heavy and full of so much emotion that Aziraphale finds himself pulling the demon close again. When red hair is tucked under his chin, he closes his own eyes and drifts off again. He forgets about everything as he holds the fading man. Forgets his book, his tea and cocoa. Forgets all about the plants in the other room and about his bookshop he hasn’t seen in so long. Forgets about the world outside of these four walls, outside of the bed.

He’s all but lost his friend at this point, has to look so hard to find any trace of him. _What will I do Crowley?_ he finds himself wondering when he starts to realize there may be no bringing his demon back at this point. _There’s no fixing this, it there... No going back..._

His mind wanders to the last time the demon shut down this badly, all these centuries ago. Crowley definitely had every right to, after what he was forced into doing in Rome, but Aziraphale remembers it only lasting a year at most. Crowley never felt like he was slipping this far away either. Never felt like he was going to disappear completely either. Aziraphale doesn’t remember what finally brought the demon back finally either, only that he stopped by one day to find Crowley awake, as if nothing had happened.

_I don’t know how to help Crowley, don’t know what more I can do for you..._

He doesn’t notice he’s said the words aloud until silence settles heavily over the room again. “I don’t know how to take your pain away, how to replace it with anything else instead,” he finds himself saying. It’s easier to ramble at this point than acknowledge he can’t feel Crowley anymore. “So many years we’ve known each other... So much pain we’ve faced... It always hit you harder, always hurt you more, and I’m only sorry I wasn’t by your side more during it all.”

At some point, he’s shifted them again and finds himself staring at the beautiful face in front of him again. He’s going to have to stop looking one day soon, but he can’t bring himself to let that day be today. Aziraphale closes his eyes, letting the image of Crowley looking so peaceful burn itself into his memory. _One I’ll return to often, I’m sure..._

He must drift off more than he planned on, because he misses the moment golden eyes pull themselves open. Misses when love pours from the demon in his warms stronger then he ever thought it could. It doesn’t take much to pull him back though...

“...I-I’m...”

Aziraphale’s eyes fly open, immediately latching onto the ones now staring back at him. Words fight on his tongue, wrestling to be the first to leave his mouth. Before any of them can win, he shuts his mouth with a click as Crowley starts to speak again with a rough, hoarse voice.

“I-I’m... sssorry...”

Aziraphale instantly wants to comfort Crowley, wants to tell him he _never has to be sorry for anything ever again._

“I-I... was l-late... for l-lunch...”

Aziraphale’s vision blurs as tears spring to his eyes. They don’t stop him though as he moves to press his lips against Crowley. He wants to cover every inch of the demon in soft, gentle kisses that are filled with his love. Wants Crowley to know he is here for him. Needs the demon to know everything he is feeling for him.

He pulls himself away to look at Crowley again, tears sliding down his face. “Welcome back, my love,” Aziraphale whispers out before he moves in again, holding the demon as close as he possibly can. He finds himself pressing kisses and needing to look into those soft eyes, needing Crowley to know he never has to explain anything. he realizes though that he has all the time in the world to show him,_ to show you, my demon, my love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter next week to wrap it all up! Check me out on tumblr for updates @milla-gsd


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale holds Crowley close as the demon sleeps, truly sleeps, next to him. Red hair fans out behind him, head pillowed on the angel’s chest, Crowley looks more peaceful than he has in months. Aziraphale doesn’t pretend to not stare, doesn’t hold himself back from touching Crowley even now that he’s aware the demon know it’s happening. 

Crowley only stayed awake long enough to assure Aziraphale he wasn’t going anywhere before the angel insisted he get some real sleep. He smiles to himself as he remembers the weak protest Crowley had given while Aziraphale had lulled the demon to sleep. “You’ve been plagued by nightmares for months now, love,” Aziraphale had whispered, smiling at the soft whine from Crowley. “I’ll be right here when you wake, I promise.” Before Aziraphale could even place a gentle kiss to Crowley’s temple, the demon was already asleep, relaxing into the angel’s side. That had been seven days ago, but Aziraphale isn’t worried; he can sense Crowley’s presence, right below the surface, and he knows his demon isn’t far away from him. 

The angel even allows himself to drift off a handful of times, the warmth of the blanket mixing with winter blowing past outside making him drowsy. He never sleeps for long though, still not entirely sure the whole process is really for him, but he’s too comfortable to stop himself entirely. He miracles a book to himself at one point, finally feeling the urge to read again as Crowley’s breaths ghost across his skin. He doesn’t sink into the story as much as he’s capable of doing, but he reads a few pages as his other hand presses against Crowley’s back. His fingers trace patterns there, play with stray strands of hair never fully moving from the demon. 

Aziraphale senses Crowley waking moments before he actually starts to stir. The angel doesn’t say anything though as he waits patiently for Crowley to pull himself awake. He continues rubbing his back, waiting for the moment golden eyes blink slowly open. It’s another few minutes before they land on his own blue eyes and Aziraphale can’t help the smile that grows on his face. “Hello dear,” he says softly as he brushes his knuckles over an angled cheekbone. “Have a nice sleep?”

Crowley blinks up at him and Aziraphale can sense the myriad of emotions that flit through him as he pieces everything together again. When they settle, Aziraphale has to stop the sight that threatens to spill form him when tears well in Crowley’s eyes. 

“Shh...” he hushes, dropping the book and using his now free hand to cup Crowley’s cheek as he holds the man closer. “It’s alright, everything is alright, my love.”

At his words, tears slip free of the demon’s eyes, tracking over his nose. More build to take their place as Crowley gathers his own words. When he doe finally speak, his voice sounds so broken and Aziraphale feels his heart break: “A-a-angel... I... H-h-how l-l-long...” he finally manages to get out. A look of frustration crosses his features and Aziraphale rubs gentle circles against the demon’s back. 

“Oh, Crowley...” Aziraphale sighs. He was hoping they could just enjoy each others company for at least a short time before this came up. Hoped he wouldn’t have to explain everything right away, but of course Crowley would ask... “You really want to know, right?”

Crowley’s eyes widen a fraction and Aziraphale can tell he gave away just enough information with that. After a bit, Crowley finally nods and Aziraphale hears himself sigh again. “It’s been quite some time, my dear,” he starts off softly. “Three and a half years, Crowley. Three and a half years have passed.”

Crowley’s eyes slip closed again, tears sliding past his lashes once more, and Aziraphale pulls him closer. He holds the demon tightly as sobs start to fall from Crowley’s lips. Aziraphale threads his fingers through red hair, giving Crowley as much comfort as he can while the demon cries at the revelation of how long he has been out of it. Aziraphale lets him cry, remembering his own fair share of tears. 

Crowley eventually raises his head again, looking the angel in the eye. Aziraphale’s chest clenches at the tear stains that cover Crowley’s face. He moves to wipe them away as solid golden eyes stare unblinkingly up at him. “I-I-I... l-l-left you a-a-alone...” Crowley says haltingly. “Th-three y-years...”

“After everything we’ve been through,” Aziraphale gently interrupts. “You’ve earned a rest. Plus, I was never really truly alone, I promise.”

Crowley squeezes his eyes shut tight and Aziraphale can tell he doesn’t really believe him. “I sssshould-d n-n-never...”

“You did what you had to, my love, and I can’t fault you for that.” As Aziraphale finishes speaking, he places a gentle kiss on Crowley’s forehead. When he pulls away, golden eyes are wide again and Aziraphale can see the confusion along with other emotions fly past. “All that matters is you are here now, awake and alive. Please don’t cry,” he adds when a stray tear slips past to slide down the demon’s cheek again. 

“A-a-angel...” Crowley whispers before he finally presses gently into the hand that’s still cupping his cheek. 

“I know, my dear,” Aziraphale tells him. They lay in silence for a while as Crowley calms down enough to catch his breath and stop his tears completely. Aziraphale uses the chance to run his hand over Crowley’s back, giving his demon all of the support he can. Crowley slowly relaxes, pressing against Aziraphale. When Aziraphale is sure Crowley has calmed down enough, he presses another gentle kiss into fiery hair. “Feel a little better?”

Crowley nods against him. “Ssssorry,” he hisses out, but his voice sounds stronger. 

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Crowley,” Aziraphale says softly, but with enough force behind his words that there can be no mistaking that he means it. “You will never need to apologize to me for what’s happened.”

The angel knows that Crowley is most likely going to keep apologizing for some time to come, but he hopes he can keep some of it at bay at least. He could never be mad at Crowley for what’s happened here, and he doesn’t care how long it takes to show it to him. Crowley doesn’t say more and Aziraphale wracks his brain for a good topic to change the subject to, one that will hopefully not bring up anymore dark thoughts. “Would you like to see your plants?” he ends up asking, remembering the room next door. “I’ve been taking care of them for you...”

Crowley raises his head and Aziraphale is happy to see his eyes have started to return to normal. “How spoiled have you gotten them?” he asks with a slight lit to his voice. 

Aziraphale smiles wide, even as a soft blush creeps up. “You’ll have them back to normal in no time, I’m sure,” the angel says and he chuckles as Crowley rolls his eyes. 

Crowley looks like he wants to say something, but as he goes to speak, he tries to move as well and cries out as his body tenses. Aziraphale’s heart starts to race instantly. “Careful my dear, you’ve been laying still for a long time now,” he cautions as Crowley collapses back against him. 

The pair lay still for a long time. Aziraphale can still feel winter raging outside and can’t help but wonder if that’s part of Crowley’s pain problem. He’s always been so much stiffer in winter, but coupled with years of not moving...? “How about I help you stretch your arms out at least?” he asks, already planning how he can sit up without moving Crowley much. Crowley seems to ponder this offer, realizing where his arms are for the first time since waking up. Aziraphale tried to keep the demon comfortable, but he knew his arms would be stiff after laying folded up next to his body for so long. He looks back up at Aziraphale and nods. Aziraphale finds himself wondering where to even start...

After a few minutes of trying, he’s sitting up against the headboard with Crowley’s head pillowed in his lap. The demon pants, trying to relax again even after such subtle movements. Aziraphale waits patiently, not wanting to hurt Crowley by rushing this process. It’s going to take time and they have so much of that at this point. When Crowley seems to have calmed down a bit, Aziraphale starts to rub his hand over Crowley’s shoulder and moves slowly down his arm as he applies more pressure. 

“This alright so far?” Aziraphale asks as his actions are not immediately stopped. Crowley nods his head slowly and Aziraphale starts to apply more pressure as he woks. When he feels Crowley relax even more, Aziraphale gently moves the mass of red hair into a pile out of the way, not wanting to pull on it as he continues to work. 

Working slowly, giving Crowley all the time in the world to ask him to stop if it becomes too much, Aziraphale starts to move Crowley’s arm back and forth. He feels the joints in the shoulder and elbow creak and groan as he starts to work the arm bit by bit. Crowley whines as the arm moves stiffly, but he doesn’t stop Aziraphale, so the angel continues to work until the whines stop and the appendage seems more relaxed. When he thinks he’s worked it as much as he can, Aziraphale sets the arm back down and smiles as Crowley wraps it around him, holding the angel closer. 

They have so much to talk about, so much to catch up on, but Aziraphale does his best to not let it weigh heavily on him, knowing they just need to take it a step at a time. There’s no reason to rush into anything, but watching Crowley reach out to him in such a small way has him glowing with hope. As Aziraphale wonders how he is going to work on Crowley’s other arm, the demon shifts next to him, a soft groan escaping him. 

“F-fuck...” Crowley whispers as he settles again. 

“I know,” Aziraphale replies as he rubs circles against the demon’s back. “One step at a time, my dear.” 

Crowley huffs a breath and Aziraphale smiles, almost able to imagine the eye roll that most likely went along with it. “Jusssst frustrting,” he hisses. “N-not being able t-to move...”

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Aziraphale reminds him. “Now, can you help me reach your other arm? I think... well, I’m not really sure what would be the best way.”

Aziraphale falls silent as he watches Crowley raise his hand, snapping two fingers as he brings them up before Aziraphale has time to stop him. The demon tenses right before the snap reaches Aziraphale’s ears and he has just enough time to wonder what before the demon is pressed against his other side. A heart wrenching cry escapes Crowley as his body resettles into a new position and Aziraphale finds himself bending over the demon, holding him close. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmurs as Crowley pants under him. “We could have found another way...”

“It all... would have hurt...” Crowley squeezes out between heaving breaths as he presses against Aziraphale. “Thissss wasss just... the fassstest way...”

Aziraphale sighs as he realizes that Crowley is right of course. If all of the demon is stuff, any type of movement, sudden or slow, is going to hurt in some way. Might as well get the bigger ones over as quickly as possible. When Crowley’s breathing returns to some sort of normalcy, Aziraphale sits back and restarts the process on the new, equally stiff arm. As he works, he can feel Crowley staring at him from where he lays, can sense that there is still so much Crowley wants to say and Aziraphale doesn’t know how to tell him to not worry about it. He doesn’t need any explanations, doesn’t need to know what happened. He knows Crowley won’t truly be comfortable until he’s told him though...

“Alright, how does that feel?” Aziraphale asks after a while. 

Crowley moves his arm slowly, working the joints as carefully as he can while Aziraphale waits. “They b-both feel great,” he whispers eventually. 

“I’m glad,” Aziraphale replies as he reaches once again for long red strands. He can’t keep his hands off of them and when Crowley makes no move to stop him, he combs his fingers gently through them. “Think you’re ready to try and stand? I’ll be right here to help.”

Crowley nods and the pair start working on getting him out of the bed. It’s a slow process, one that takes most of the day as they work only as fast as Crowley’s body allows. They stop frequently, Crowley panting heavily and leaning against Aziraphale whenever it’s too much. When the demon is finally sitting up, legs hanging over the side of the bed, Aziraphale is well aware he’s bearing most of Crowley’s weight and takes his time pulling himself out of the bed. He never lets go of Crowley, never pulls away completely. A part of him is always there, touching and supporting as much as he can. 

Aziraphale finds himself standing in front of Crowley between his parted legs. One of his hands threads through Crowley’s hair, holding him close as the demon presses his forehead against Aziraphale’s chest. His free hand rubs in what he hopes is a soothing manner over Crowley’s arm, waiting patiently. “I wish I could make this easier for you...” he whispers as a shiver runs through Crowley. 

The blanket has slipped off of them both at this point, and it takes another shiver from Crowley for Aziraphale to realize how cold the bedroom actually is. “You’re h-helping... promissse, angel...” Crowley replies. “B-bloody cold in here though...”

“Ah, yes, apologies my dear,” Aziraphale says as he snaps his fingers quickly, warming the room back up to an acceptable temperature. “Forgot to keep this room warm this winter I’m afraid. Didn’t really pay attention to when the seasons changed and that blanket was helping both of us for the last year or so.”

Crowley tenses at his words and Aziraphale silently berates himself for mentioning how much time has passed again, his words only serving to remind Crowley how long he had been out for. Before it could set in for too long, he quickly continues, the feeling the need to explain the blanket further: “When I came back one day to find you almost frozen, I blessed that blanket to keep you at the perfect temperature, no matter what time of year it was. Well, you or whoever else uses it. It heats and cools, so it’s perfect year round.”

“Sssounds pretty g-great actually,” Crowley hisses out. His shivers die off slowly as the room warms back up t and he manages to pull himself up enough to look at Aziraphale with a soft smile on his face. 

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hums as he moves his hand from the back of Crowley’s head to brush away a stray strand of hair out of Crowley’s face. “It was definitely a big help in the winter. Knew it would mean one less thing for both of us to worry about.”

Crowley nods his agreement as he leans into Aziraphale’s touch and the angel feels his chest flutter. The two of them stay still for a long time, the only movement coming from the steady rise and fall of Crowley’s chest and Aziraphale’s fingers occasionally making patterns against Crowley’s back. The angel loses track of time and doesn’t realize the city has grown dark outside of the windows. When he does finally notice, it’s only because Crowley finally pulls his head away from the angel’s chest, looking out of the window himself. 

“I was hoping to see them in the daylight,” he murmurs as his eyes stare unblinkingly at the glass panes. “They always look so much nicer in the daytime...”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agrees, but quickly thinks of the light that is sure to be shining in the room at this moment. “It’s supposed to be a full moon tonight though, and they look just as lovely in the moonlight you know.”

Crowley stiffens slightly against him and Aziraphale hopes he hasn’t said the wrong thing. Before either of them can spend too much time thinking about it, Crowley sighs and Aziraphale feels him shifting again. “Help a demon out?” Crowley asks catching Aziraphale’s eye. 

Aziraphale wraps his arms under Crowley’s, giving the other plenty of time to grab on and get his bearings before either of them try anything else. When Crowley nods his head, Aziraphale braces himself, taking on as much of Crowley’s weight as he can without insulting his friend. He can feel the moment Crowley pushes off of the bed, even more of his weight falling onto Aziraphale as his legs shake beneath him. A groan escapes Crowley’s lips as he hangs his head between the two of them. 

“Anything I can do?” Aziraphale asks gently, hoping it might distract Crowley in some way. 

“Jussst sssstand there...” Crowley hisses out between his teeth and Aziraphale can hear the pain behind his words. He doesn’t comment on it though, knowing it would only hurt his friend’s pride more than it already is at the moment as he clings to the angel, letting his legs stretch out and bear weight for the first time in years. “Fuck...” Crowley curses as his legs continue to shake. 

Aziraphale waits, patiently giving Crowley all the time he needs as he holds him steady. None of this is easy for him though, seeing the person he loves in so much pain. It’s not about him right now though, not about what he’s going through. There will be time for him and what he’s feeling, but for now, he’s spending all of his energy focusing on how best to help the demon still clinging to him as his legs shake harder with every passing second. 

“Try taking a step, even just a small one,” Aziraphale suggests, needing to try something. 

Crowley nods and Aziraphale can see the movement in his jaw that lets him know the demon is clenching his teeth hard. Aziraphale moves away a step to give Crowley room to move, but doesn’t stop supporting Crowley in any way. He can feel Crowley tense even further around him, fingers digging into his back where he clings to him. After a few deep breaths, Crowley shifts his weight and takes the most hesitant step Aziraphale has ever seen anyone take. 

“Ah!” Crowley cries out, almost collapsing immediately into Aziraphale’s arms as his legs give out completely on him. 

Aziraphale reacts instantly, never letting Crowley even come close to hitting the floor as he scoops Crowley up in his arms. The demon buries his face against his neck, arms still wrapped around him as Aziraphale holds him close, waiting a few heartbeats as he lets Crowley catch his breath. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” the angel says with a small smile on his face, hoping the demon recognizes his teasing for what it is. 

“Oh, hush,” Crowley growls back, voice muffled against Aziraphale’s skin. 

Aziraphale chuckles softly as he starts to move out of the bedroom. One arm is wrapped around Crowley’s back, supporting his friend as much as he can, with his other arm hooked under Crowley’s legs. He knows his demon can’t be too happy about being carried this way, but he also has a feeling the pain is just entirely too much right now. There will be plenty of time for Crowley to find new ways to bug him and rib him later on, and for now, he’s happy Crowley is letting him help without too much grumbling. 

“Hey, angel?” Crowley whispers as they move slowly through the apartment, Aziraphale being careful as he goes through doorways to not hit Crowley in any way against them. “I don’t think I ever sssaid th-thank you...”

Aziraphale nuzzles his head against Crowley’s ever so gently, just enough to be noticed, but not enough to be made a big deal abouts. “You know you don’t have to,” he replies, finally reaching the plant room. “I’m sure you’re going to want to take that back once you see your plants.”

Before Crowley has a chance to reply, Aziraphale slowly lowers them both to the floor, settling Crowley against him so he can still support the demon, but also give him the chance to pull away if he wants. He can feel the plants reaching for the two of them and smiles as Crowley finally pulls his head away from his chest, looking around the room for the first time in three years. Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley though, watching as the demon scans the room that’s bathed in moonlight that shines through the window in the slanted ceiling.

He doesn’t need to look at the plants to know what they look like; the blessings he gave them still radiate strongly around the room and he knows the plants themselves are fine. He can’t help himself as his eyes trace Crowley’s features, the planes and angles softened in the moonlight. Golden eyes still glow in the soft lighting, flitting around the room as he takes in his collection. “Angel...” Crowley whispers, voice so soft, Aziraphale almost misses it. 

“I know, I kind of let them get carried away a bit,” Aziraphale starts, not really knowing what’s going through the demon’s mind. “I just don’t have the same touch as you do with them. Plus, I kind of gave them all blessings when I realized I wasn’t keeping as good of an eye on them as I should be.”

“Angel,” Crowley says again, voice still so soft. 

“It’s ok if you aren’t happy with me,” Aziraphale continues and he vaguely recognizes that he’s rambling, but he can’t stop himself all of the sudden. “You’re right, I did spoil them, but honestly if you ask me, they seemed like they needed to be. They missed you, truly, and it’s not like I could ever replace you-”

“Zira,” Crowley interrupts and Aziraphale snaps back to himself. Crowley has turned to face him, eyes wide and filled with so many emotion. “I...they’re... Oh, Zira...”

Aziraphale watches as Crowley looks around the room again, eyes taking in every individual plant in the room. The angel finds himself turning to look around the room himself, taking in the sight of the plants in the moonlight. Vines and tendrils reach for them as flowers dance gently. Everything in the room seems to be reaching for them, stretching out the best they can, them being plants and all. “They missed you, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers as he takes what’s going on around them. 

Aziraphale continues looking around the room, seeing just how much all of the plants have grown since he was last here. Greenery surrounds them, silver in the light. It reaches and spreads every which way and Aziraphale feels vaguely guilty for allowing the room to become such an overgrown mess as he remembers how neat the room was before. He turns to Crowley, mouth open with yet another apology ready on his lips, but he stops when he sees Crowley’s face. 

Tears stream from wide eyes, trailing down pale cheeks. Crowley pulls away carefully, sitting up and taking some of his weight away from the angel. Aziraphale watches Crowley closely, ready to spring if Crowley needs help, but he can’t help the pounding in his chest as he watches. The other reaches out for his plants, pale hands stretching as far as they can towards vines that reach for him. As Aziraphale watches, he feels his eyes grow wide as the vines reaching out wrap around Crowley’s arms, trailing up and around their owner. Aziraphale suddenly feels like he’s intruding, watching a scene he has no right to be a part of, but Crowley hasn’t pulled away from him completely, so Aziraphale just watches. 

“You overgrown... Misbehaving... beautiful things,” Crowley whispers as tears continues to fall. More of the plants reach for him, flowers and leaves rubbing against Crowley’s cheeks. “Can’t believe you let yourselves get this way,” Crowley huffs and Aziraphale knows he’s fighting back more tears. 

The night passes as they sit in the room, the moonlight dancing around the room as it passes. Aziraphale can only watch as Crowley continues to murmur to his prized possessions, speaking gently, mixing in praises with his criticisms in the same gentle tone. The plants continue to reach for him, each one taking a turn to comfort their master. Crowley’s tears eventually dry and he keeps smiling gently, but Aziraphale can tell when he starts to grow tired and does his best to move close again, supporting his friend again. 

Once Crowley has said something to every single one of his plants, made sure every one of them has felt seen and noticed, he takes a deep breath and leans back against Aziraphale. The angel wraps his arms around Crowley’s waist, holding him close as he hooks his chin over Crowley’s shoulder. “Told you I took care of them,” he whispers into the demon’s ear. 

“Sssspoiled them rotten ‘ssshat you did,” Crowley grumbles back, but Aziraphale hears no malice behind the words. “Going to take me agessss to make them fear me again.”

Aziraphale nuzzles Crowley’s head gently as the other leans his head back to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Told you I didn’t quite know what I was doing with them,” Aziraphale says as he presses a soft kiss to Crowley’s temple. 

The demon shivers in his arms at Aziraphale’s touch and the angel can’t help but smile more. “Going to have to talk about this, aren’t we?” Aziraphale asks. 

“Need to talk about a lot of things, seems like,” Crowley replies after a moment and Aziraphale can almost hear his thoughts spinning back. 

Before Crowley has time to spin too far, Aziraphale squeezes him, wrapping his arms tighter and bringing Crowley back from the edge of his thoughts. “We have time to talk,” he whispers out, reminding the demon gently. “We don’t have to do it all right now, or tomorrow even. Day by day, my love, let’s just take it day by day.”

He can feel Crowley relax against him slightly before a snap reaches his ears. Aziraphale blinks before finding himself curled up on the couch, blanket covering his lap. Crowley is still wrapped in his arms, his head pillowed on his chest once more. Aziraphale finds himself once again playing with the demon’s hair with the hand that’s attached to the arm wrapped around Crowley’s back. His other hand is being held gently, slim fingers wrapped around his own. 

“I’m sorry I worried you, angel,” Crowley whispers after some time. “I never...”

“I know dear,” Aziraphale responds when Crowley’s voice falters. He doesn’t say more though, knowing the demon will continue when he’s ready. 

Crowley takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It all just became too much all of the sudden... I just felt... trapped,” Crowley continues eventually. “So much happened to us...”

His voice trails off again and Aziraphale only continues to play with Crowley’s hair, rubbing his fingers against Crowley’s head. He doesn’t really have much to say, doesn’t have anything to add that will do much to help right now. He presses a kiss to Crowley’s head, giving the demon as much comfort as he can as he pushes his love through the kiss. Crowley shudders under him and Aziraphale starts to pull away when Crowley’s hand tightens on his own. 

“Don’t...” the demon squeezes out. “It’s just... a lot...” 

Aziraphale pauses, neither pulling away or pushing forward again, not wanting to overwhelm Crowley even more. When silence falls again, he pushes his love towards the demon again, sending it slower this time. Crowley shudders again but is soon melting against Aziraphale, relaxing against the angel further. “You brought me back,” Crowley whispers. 

Aziraphale can feel the love in the others words, can feel all of the emotions Crowley doesn’t have the words for right now. It isn’t long before Crowley’s breathing evens out, letting the angel know he’s drifted off to sleep again. He knows it’s going to be some time before Crowley is back to feeling like himself, until he has the strength to stand on his own again, but Aziraphale doesn’t mind. He knows he’s going to be right here by his demon’s side whether the other out right asks him to be or not. It’s where he belongs, where he’s always belonged. 

Aziraphale’s eyes blink open slowly and he realizes he must have dozed off at some point, the warmth of the blanket and demon next to him allowing him to relax more than he has in a long time. At that thought though, Aziraphale realizes the demon is no longer on the couch with him, but he doesn’t worry; he can still sense Crowley within the flat and pulls himself off of the couch, grabbing something from the side table as he goes. 

It doesn’t take him long to find the demon. He’s back in the room with his plants, surrounded by their greenery once more. Aziraphale leans against the wall, watching silently as Crowley slowly circles the room, checking on each individual plant. They all seem to reach for him again, seem to stand straighter as he passes them, and Aziraphale catches snippets here and there as Crowley murmurs to them. 

“...should have never abandoned you... didn’t deserve that... so good while I was gone... grown up so much...”

Aziraphale’s heart breaks as he hears Crowley whisper those words over and over, mixing them with promises and praises. Crowley still seems unsteady on his legs as Aziraphale watches, holding onto tables and the walls as he walks around the room. Aziraphale finds himself wanting to reach out to the demon, give him an arm to lean on, but he holds himself back, knowing this is something the other needs to do on his own. So he watches, patient as the sun moves across the room, the morning light bringing a new shine to the place. 

As Aziraphale watches, he can tell Crowley is growing tired and knows his friend is entirely too stubborn to notice it himself. Before Crowley can stumble on legs that are starting to shake, Aziraphale makes his way into the room, coming up behind his demon. He wraps his arms slowly around Crowley, pulling the slim figure against his chest. He nuzzles against Crowley’s neck, breathing in his friend as long red hair tickles his face. 

“I see you’ve kept your hair long,” he whispers, hesitant to break the solemn mood of the room by talking much louder. 

“Hmmm...” Crowley hums as he leans back against the angel. “You’ve kept such good care of it. It would be a shame to cut it so soon I think.”

Aziraphale only smiles. 

Soon, he’ll lead the demon back to the couch, will settle in with the blanket once again before procuring a steaming mug of coffee for the demon. He’ll find himself brushing long hair once again, brush pulled from his pocket where he placed it after finding it earlier. He’ll place gentle kisses against Crowley’s cheek, run his hands over Crowley’s shoulders, nuzzles against Crowley’s back and smile at each shiver he causes to run through Crowley. 

They’ll talk eventually, deal with all of their emotions on some later date. Go over all of the new information they’ve learned about each other on a calmer night with a bottle of wine between them. For now though, this is enough. Laying with each other, being happy with each other, is enough. There will always be time for more, but for now, this is all they need. 

Aziraphale can’t help but smile as Crowley’s love washes over him and he closes his eyes as he imagines all of the days they have ahead of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus!!

Crowley’s late for lunch. 

Well, the demon would consider himself to be fashionably late, the angel knows. He smiles as he takes a sip of the tea that he ordered when he first arrived after having walked here from the bookshop. He flips a page in his book, taking his time enjoying the volume with his mind at peace for the first time in months. 

Whenever the door opens, Aziraphale doesn’t feel the need to look up to see who is walking in. He hasn’t felt the desire to make himself invisible to those working in the cafe. Instead, when he hears the unmistakable sounds of someone driving much more recklessly than necessary, Aziraphale finds himself ordering a fresh cup of tea along with a mug of steaming hot coffee. 

Breaks squeal just as the new cups are set down on the table in front of him and Aziraphale smiles at the barista as the door flies open. He knows he is going to be miracling away a boot or a ticket later when it’s time to leave, but for now, he only smiles as Crowley settles across from him, already reaching for the coffee mug in front of him. A long red braid settles against his chest, slung over his shoulder and Aziraphale finds his eyes trailing over it before raising to meet sunglasses covered eyes. 

“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale says sweetly as he places a hand over the one stretched out on the table, his thumb running over pale skin ever so softly. 

Crowley’s lips twitch behind the rim of his coffee mug, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. He puts the mug down with a contented sigh, turning his hand over so he can wrap his fingers around Aziraphale’s. “Hello angel,” he replies eventually. 

“Sorry I’m late for lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! I am so happy people have enjoyed this little miniseries dive into Crowley's head space and how Aziraphale is there to help pick up the pieces when it's all said and done!
> 
> Follow or check in with me on Tumblr for more fics that will come eventually! [@milla-gsd](http://www.milla-gsd.tumblr.com)


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